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so the sun, it can shine on me, and the clouds they can roll away (open to all)
Davin missed a lot of things while he was being held in that warehouse, but coffee was up high on the list. By the second day, he was feeling the lack of caffeine and the added headache wasn't doing him any favors. The first few days back, he didn't want to leave his apartment. James or Mira would bring him coffee from Quill, or he'd fire up his little coffeemaker in his kitchen. He was allowed a few days of being lazy, he thought. Or fear disguised as laziness, if he's honest with himself.
But he needs to get back into in the swing of things. He hasn't really seen anyone aside from James, Mira, and Raleigh, and he doesn't really have any idea of what happened while he and Spencer were gone. He just knows that he needs to get back to his real life. He needs to put the kidnapping and the torture and all that behind him, and needs to keep moving forward.
He can start by going to get his own coffee. He takes a shower and puts himself together as much as he can, wrinkling his nose at his reflection in the mirror. His face is still bruised, and he has stitches above one cheekbone and a small line of them at his temple, where he was initially knocked out with the wrench. His right hand is in a cast and he walks stiffly, thanks to his cracked ribs, but he goes outside anyway.
It's a nice day and the sun is shining, and that's something that Davin will never take advantage of again. He went days without seeing the sun, or feeling any sort of warmth, and now he smiles when he feels it on his skin, and feels the soft breeze ruffling his hair. It's a short walk to Quill, but he takes his time. He feels stiff from all his healing injuries and inactivity, and he just wants to enjoy the sun for a little longer.
People are staring at him, whispering to each other as they pass, and Davin knows that word got around town. There are people who will see he and Spencer as victims, and he supposes they are, but they're so much more than that. They're survivors, and they're strong, no matter what. So Davin keeps his chin up, and he keeps walking.
But he needs to get back into in the swing of things. He hasn't really seen anyone aside from James, Mira, and Raleigh, and he doesn't really have any idea of what happened while he and Spencer were gone. He just knows that he needs to get back to his real life. He needs to put the kidnapping and the torture and all that behind him, and needs to keep moving forward.
He can start by going to get his own coffee. He takes a shower and puts himself together as much as he can, wrinkling his nose at his reflection in the mirror. His face is still bruised, and he has stitches above one cheekbone and a small line of them at his temple, where he was initially knocked out with the wrench. His right hand is in a cast and he walks stiffly, thanks to his cracked ribs, but he goes outside anyway.
It's a nice day and the sun is shining, and that's something that Davin will never take advantage of again. He went days without seeing the sun, or feeling any sort of warmth, and now he smiles when he feels it on his skin, and feels the soft breeze ruffling his hair. It's a short walk to Quill, but he takes his time. He feels stiff from all his healing injuries and inactivity, and he just wants to enjoy the sun for a little longer.
People are staring at him, whispering to each other as they pass, and Davin knows that word got around town. There are people who will see he and Spencer as victims, and he supposes they are, but they're so much more than that. They're survivors, and they're strong, no matter what. So Davin keeps his chin up, and he keeps walking.
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"It's my job," he says, with a small smile of you're-welcome. If Auryn took jobs as seriously as he used to take school, he'd never go, but they're a little more rewarding and he's not that same teenager being told he's a failure and a freak.
He's proud of what he can do, now.
At least, sometimes.
He glances at Davin's arm. "Take the time you need," he says. "We'll be all right." He thinks he could probably knit bone, it's simple and innate enough that his powers would speak to it, but he's not sure what potions Davin's already made and how they might react.
"I was thinking we should put a protection spell up. Not something that will ward everyone off. More intent based." He thinks about his father, the hexes and wards he'd crafted compulsively. It still hadn't kept his family safe. Under his shirt, his dogtags prickle.
"I was thinking about it," Auryn says, and reaches to get the door.
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He steps up to the counter and orders his coffee, blushing and squirming a bit when the girl behind the counter tells him how happy she is that he's back safely. It's sort of overwhelming, knowing that everyone has some idea what happened to him. But it's comforting in a weird, selfish way to know that his sudden absence didn't go unnoticed.
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Auryn nods. “I was thinking about that. My father was very good at defensive magic.” Among other things, but no one drags their parents’ addictions out in public. “Most wards, simple or powerful, aren’t discriminatory, but I think this needs something more complex. You’re right, we don’t want to discourage customers with it.” Even a little negative warding might make customers feel anxious about the place, and that doesn’t serve the purpose. “You want to draw in the good, keep those seeking to harm at bay.” Nine shield knots, he thinks, would do the trick, blessed properly and with the right power behind them. Blood would be best, but…
He chews on his lip at the barista’s excitement. Davin’s well loved here. It’s good to see, if something he’s never really experienced himself. He orders his own coffee -- black, sugar, no milk – quietly and waits to receive it, finding them both a seat when it comes out first.
“I have something I need to talk to you about,” he says, furrowing his brow at the coffee and glancing back up at Davin.
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Auryn hates the fade of his smile, but he's compelled to be honest after so many days with the truth of the spell held close to his chest. There are few people he feels accountable to in this town, very few; for the most part he's willing to go to extreme lengths for what he believes. But Davin's one of them, at least, or especially, in this case. "The magic unleashed on the town," he says, "when everything was enchanted before, a fairy tale land."
He looks up at Davin, hoping but not particularly expecting that he'll stay to hear him out after what he says next. "The spell - I helped cast it. My blood among others." It's relatively evident that Nerium was involved; he knows she has few regrets. But he won't name names, hers or Aoife's. The thought itself is horrifying to him. Even now, there's a part of him that knows he's talking to someone intimately involved with the police, an organization he wouldn't trust even if they weren't in charge of restricting public magic. But he owes Davin the truth after he risked his life as a result.
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"I thought it was just Nerium..." He swallows again and tries to keep the hurt and fear off of his face, but he's so tired that he's sure that he fails. "Why? What did we do to deserve something so horrible?"
Davin has been nothing but kind to Auryn since he arrived in Siren Cove. He befriended him, gave him a job, and this is what he gets. His memories were taken away and he was reduced to being a homeless urchin on the streets, completely alone. "Were ya also in on the part where she tried t'murder me an' my boyfriend?"
He's angry, hurt, and scared. It's too soon after all he's just been through, and he finds himself shaking as he pushes his chair away slightly, not wanting to be so close.
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Davin goes frozen and terrified, like a deer in headlights; his entire aura spikes. Auryn's instinct is immediately to steel himself, to shutter himself against feeling hurt by Davin's immediate pulling away, or the weakness of feeling bad for someone else, There's a part of him that wants to shake Davin, to tell him he needs to be stronger, that he can't let others see that they have an affect on him like that. He's going to keep getting hurt, getting used by people for their own ends.
Better to not feel anything.
He takes a long drink of his coffee, keeping his face impassive, neither defensive or pleading. If Davin wants to fire him, hate him, curse him: let him, but it'll be at his own reckoning. "It wasn't a punishment," he says, calmly, not a justification or a defense, just an explanation. "It had nothing to do with you, with anyone in particular. Certainly not a fairytale." He shakes his head at the idea and smiles wryly. "Wild magic does what it wants, I guess. We intended to bring magic back to the town, free and unbound, unrestricted by law. Taking away your memories wasn't the purpose. It wasn't some sort of game we were playing. The chaos of what was unleashed in everyone was just that. Chaos."
He puts his hands around his cup and looks up, his jaw setting a little, because here he's deeply conflicted. He understands Nerium, what she's afraid of. He's willing to fight and die for the ability to practice magic freely, but he hates what was done. "No, it wasn't my decision to strike against you, and I don't agree with it. But I owe you an apology for that in any case. The dragon wouldn't have existed without my work."
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He's just furious, and his hands shake as he pushes his chair back and stands up, swallowing hard and pinning Auryn with a glare. "But ya were playin' a game. Ya took our fates into your own hands, and it backfired, didn't it? People died 'cause of what ya did. I almost died, just 'cause I had the audacity t'be able t'shake off the spell an' remember who I really was."
Davin laughs, and it comes out bitter, damaged. "I thought we were friends, man. I just-- I don't get it. Nerium would just as soon throw ya under a literal bus than help ya, but if that's who ya wanna align yourself with, fine."
This is just too much all at once. Davin had just wanted to go out and get some coffee, some fresh air and sunshine, and now he's had this dropped on him.
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There's the reaction he was expecting, but Auryn can't keep his shoulders from dropping a little. He shouldn't expect Davin to be able to understand and forgive, but he made that mistake anyway.
He just lets himself be yelled at. Raised voices have the effect of making him shut down, seguing into eachother. You pray for God's forgiveness, boy, until I tell you to stop. Connor freak. Devil spawn. Not under my roof. Get out of this bar.
"I don't know what's best," he says, dragging his eyes back up to force himself back into reality. "I know what IS." He spreads his hand as if reaching for the molecules of the air. "You want to tell me we were incautious, sure. I know that and I accept responsibility. But this isn't about bending anyone to my will."
He stands up. "Our forefathers lived in a world where they were respected for their abilities, where the powers they accessed were known. Now we live in what should be a harbor for magic and it's unlawful to use on the street. Where the books and tomes have been banned or called old wives tales, superstition. Yes, I want that world back. No, I didn't think that would take the form it did."
He picks up his coffee. "I don't know how I can explain that to you. Your lives weren't ever meant to be changed. Magic is a force meant to be called on with respect, and the longer we all think we can keep a tiger in a cage, the longer all we'll see are the claws.
"I'm sorry you almost died. I've said that. It was wrong. But I would die without question so my children could practice freely. So that no more families are destroyed like mine or the centuries of persecuted witches we stand on the backs of. Don't we call that an inalienable right?"
He's been arguing his case at a low tone, a little sharper and more angry when he mentions his family but Davin asking him to pick sides infuriates him and he moves for the door. "I came here to apologize, to be honest, to admit my mistakes to someone who's been kind to me, and you ask me to align myself. Pick sides if that's how you live, but when you feel judged for your magic, think of me." He kills the last of his coffee and throws it away.
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It seems like left and right, people are taking away Davin's choices and endangering his life, and he's completely sick of it. He wonders what his grandmother would do, how she would react to Auryn doing such a thing. She would probably be just as bewildered as Davin himself is right now.
"Fuck, man. I never said ya had t'pick sides. Ya act like everyone is out t'get ya, but you're the one fuckin' over your friends" Davin breathes out, carefully stepping around him and heading for the door. "I appreciate your apology, an' your honesty, but I don't know that I can forgive ya. Just-- don't ever mess with my mind again, or use magic on me without consent. That isn't respect."
He swallows hard and gives Auryn one more long look, eyes dark and full of hurt, before he turns and pushes the door open, stepping out into the sunshine.